The back says: Nothing. It is a collection of poetry by Erik Axel Karlfeldt.
I say: I read this in Swedish and am writing the review in English because I believe it has been translated into other languages.
During my first year of studying literary science we had to read a lot of classic Swedish poetry, which made me quite quickly realise that I don’t particularly like it. The language is old-fashioned and I often find the rhyming tiring.
Having said that, I must admit that Karlfeldt didn’t bother me that much.
Nature seems to play a big role in this collection and he paints vivid pictures that surprisingly evoke memories of my own summers. The imagery is at times brilliant – and others predictable – and his metaphors and similes are on point. Most poems end on a melancholy note, which is something that I truly enjoyed.
According to Wiki, Flora och Bellona was published in the fall of 1918 and the following year Karlfeldt was offered the Nobel Prize in Literature, which he refused. Oddly enough he was awarded the prize posthumously in 1931 - which I find a bit cheeky – thus making him the only person who has been awarded the prize after his passing.